


Jaime/Brienne 8x04 fix-it

by Wolfram_Hart



Series: Coping with S08 of Game of Thrones [5]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fix-It, Game of Thrones Spoilers, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Post-Episode: s08e04 The Last of the Starks, brienne deserves better, no archive warnings apply apart from canonical sadness, we all need a fix-it and my brain will provide one anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-26 23:43:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18727267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfram_Hart/pseuds/Wolfram_Hart
Summary: The beginnings of a Jaime/Brienne fix-it for 8x04. *obviously spoilers*"It has always broken his heart to see her disappointed.That is why he shouldn’t have allowed himself to sleep with her - even though she was so tempting, and Tormund was so godamn unnecessary, and everything in him called him to do it."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Longer summary: 
> 
> Arya waits for Jaime on the road to King's Landing. The face of a Lannister would be very useful to wear.
> 
> Jaime knew what it meant to be branded the Kingslayer. He reckons the price of becoming the Queenslayer might be even worse.
> 
> Ser Brienne, meanwhile, knows exactly what she is capable of, and doesn't plan to wait at Winterfell for Westeros to fix itself.
> 
> _after 8x04 my romantic heart needs saving, and this fic will get us to a happy ending, D &D be damned _

****It has always broken his heart to see her disappointed.

That is why he shouldn’t have allowed himself to sleep with her - even though she was so tempting, and Tormund was so godamn _unnecessary_ , and everything in him called him to do it.

He shouldn’t have, because he knew his hard battle wasn’t done.

It would always come down to him and Cersei. If he had honour left in his heart, and the way Brienne said _stay with me_ , the way his brave warrior begged, well it certainly feels as if he has none. But if had, part of it would be that if his sister needed to be killed, for the safety of them all, he would give her a good death.

He was the Kingslayer. He could be the Queenslayer too.

It could never be anything, but a lonely role.


	2. Chapter 2

_You are nothing like your sister_ , she had told him. _Swore_ to him. Almost made him believe. 

The words run through Jaime’s head as he rides south. Because how can he be nothing like Cersei, when the two of them were entwined right from the start? 

Perhaps he is how Cersei could have been, if it hadn’t been for her husband. If she had a Brienne, to point out her goodness, and by naming it somehow make it real. 

It doesn’t matter, really. Either way his sister is his responsibility. And if there is one thing Brienne believes in, it is to do what is right, whatever the cost.

The cost of this will be worse even than killing the King. 

He only hopes that he will survive long enough to tell Brienne he never planned to break his promises to her.

That if he could, he would promise her everything he is made of. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter gets into actual action!


	3. Chapter 3

Jaime rides fast and hard away from Winterfell. It keeps his focus on the the aches of the saddle and away from everything else.

At the end of the first day on the road, he spots a huge man at the turn ahead. He’s dark-haired, riding a large horse, next to a smaller figure on a lighter one. The _Hound_? Jaime can’t risk confronting them, here, now. He doesn’t know how much he might give away when he explains why he left. So he dismounts and walks his horse through the forest at the side of the road until the sky begins to darken.

As he quietly treads through the trees he creates and discards a hundred plans for how best to approach Cersei.It would be safer to keep walking off the road, but he can’t afford to lose the time, so he returns to his horse and rides through the start of the night. In the midnight darkness he reaches a town. He chooses the worst-looking tavern and keeps his head down when he enters, just in case.

He sleeps fitfully and wakes at dawn. When he heads down to the tavern yard to feed his horse, a small, wide man ambles up to him. The man looks like an idiot, with loose jowels and unmuscled weight but he has a mean look, like he’s too lazy to create real trouble, but he’ll do what harm he can to easy targets.

He stands idly by as Jaime offers feed to his horse. Maybe he sees a man without his hand and thinks Jaime is easy pickings.

“You looking for something?” Jaime asks, keeping his voice rough, low-bred and his face into his horse's flank. It reminds him of travelling as Brienne’s captive. 

“I’ve a message.”

“Not for me. I’ve got no friends round ‘ere.”

“It’s from a Lady, up at Winterfell.”

“Lady - _Brienne_?" Jaime turns sharply. "Do you mean Ser Brienne of Tarth?” His voice is tight, his breath quick. He can’t help himself from grabbing the man’s shirt.

“Not that lady, Ser. The Lady’s that the Queen, up here in the North.”

_"_ Lady Sansa. Well, man, what is it? _”_

The cold blade of a dagger presses against Jaime’s throat. He staggers backwards, throws a punch, but the blade presses deeper, and another knife points to his stomach.

No way can this man be this quick. This is the speed of an assassin, and a killer’s eyes.

“Did Lady Sansa send you to kill me?”

“Lady Sansa,” Arya Stark tells him, ripping off the man’s face to reveal her own. “Sent the message to _me_.”

_ Fuck. _  She was certainly no ally, anymore. He is thankful she hasn't killed him quite yet: he might have a few moments to reason with her. 

“You killed the messenger?” he asks, looking at the discarded face of the man he thought he'd been speaking to.

Arya shakes her head. “That man was on the town pyre for his crimes. I simply sped up his execution.” 

“Why bother with disguise? Between you and Clegane, I'm not hard to overpower.”

“I’d rather my journey not be known to watching eyes," Arya says. She presses the blade closer to Jaime’s throat.

"Besides," this wearer of dead mens' faces tells him, "I might need the practice.”

The threat lingers in the air, like the moment in a hunt before the deer is shot. He feels warm blood trickle down his neck. Does she mean to kill him, and wear his face to gain Cersei’s trust?

He holds both hands up in surrender.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“I could kill a man like you, Jaime Lannister.”

“You could.” Jaime reaches his fingers down - slowly, so slowly - to the sword at his belt. “You easily could. But I’ve harmed no one at Winterfell. I fought beside you.”

“And now you’re betraying us.” Arya Stark speaks with no sympathy. Her words carry the weight of the inevitable.

He does not have much time before someone arrives into the yard. This far North, a Stark will receive loyalty and a Lannister will burn.

So in a sudden movement Jaime knees Arya in the stomach and pushes the dagger at his throat away - it slices into his hand, but better hand than throat. He draws his sword and points it towards her. A sharp press into his stomach stops him stepping away from the wall at his back.

They are at a stalemate: Arya holding a dagger at his stomach, Jaime with a sword pricking her pale neck. His hand throbs where he had grabbed her blade.

“I don’t plan to betray you.”

“No?” Arya’s voice is as sharp as broken glass. “You love Cersei. I plan to kill her.”

He can’t help the raw dread at her words. Even though it is what he wants, what he is travelling to King’s Landing to achieve. He can’t help picturing his sister lying in blood, her expression shocked, a silently satisfied Arya standing above her. Perhaps wearing his own face. He imagines Cersei’s corpse paraded through the city, proving to the anxious citizens that the bitch really is dead.

“I do love her,” he says. “I also understand what she’s done.” He lifts his shoulder and drops it - careful, because of the knife. He won’t apologise for loving her, even though it is half love, half obsession. Loving Cersei is the best and worst of who he is.

But it is not all of it.

Behind Arya he sees the Hound lumber into the tavern yard. Great. This clusterfuck was only getting worse.

“Are you going to stab him or not?” Clegane asks. “Chatting in the cold does fuck all.”

Jaime can’t escape the Stark girl and Clegane. Combined they are speed and strength, assassin and brute. He might have a sword to her throat, but the game is hers.

He lowers his sword and waits for Arya to speak.

Eventually, she does. “You left Brienne behind. For Cersei.” Arya spits his sister’s name.

“You all left people in your beds,” the Hound says before Jaime can find an answer. Arya flinches at that, and then digs her dagger deeper into his stomach. There’s something there, clearly. Who was it she left behind?

He tries to reason. “Clegane is on this mad quest to kill his brother, no?”

“Not kill,” the Hound grunts. “Destroy.”

“Well, I’m here to put down my sister. Once and for all.”

Arya’s voice is incredulous. “I’m supposed to beli-”

“I don’t care what you believe. I care whether you’re planning on trying to stop me. I haven’t got an awful left to lose, Lady Stark.”

Arya leans in to him, her mouth exhaling warm breath into his face. “You tried to kill my brother.”

He swallows. Nothing comes to his mouth. They have all tried to murder each other in this bloody game of Kings. But his was worse than most, because Bran was a child, and Bran had never moved against him.

The silence stretches.

Arya takes away her knife. “It’s good that you’re quiet.”

Jaime feels a flood of relief, and then a knucle-blow lands on his face, another in his stomach, and a kick to his legs drops him to the ground. He gasps for breath as blood drips from his nose. He can taste it. A boot smashes his head into the mud.

He lies on his back, and thinks he hears them leave. The low voice says something more to him, but Jaime can’t process the words.

He wishes, absurdly, that Brienne was here. But then he is fiercely fiercely glad she is not, and that she is safe as anyone can be right now, this far into the deadly game.

Arya had not killed him. For now, he is safe, and his face is his own.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ll continue this tomorrow morning once I’ve slept, so bookmark/subscribe away :)


End file.
